Denial
by amoung-the-roses
Summary: Sometimes denial is easier than facing the truth. No pairing. Slight cross-dressing.


Many say Hermione Granger is the smartest witch of her generation. Many say Harry Potter is the most powerful wizard of his generation. But nobody ever recognizes the greatness of the wonderful mind of Ronald Weasley.

Of course, the reply to this could be, and very often is, that Ron's greatness is not recognized for a good reason; there is no greatness. After all, what is so brilliant about a wizard whose sole purpose in life is to perpetually fill himself with food? What is so brilliant about a mind who can be distracted from literally anything by a woman walking somewhere within his vicinity in clothing that shows even the tiniest bit of skin?

I can reply simply to this by saying that you are focusing on the negative. The positives, and yes, that word was meant to be a plural, are far greater and more powerful than any negative you chose to fire upon me. So I suggest you load your cannons and take aim, because Ron's mind truly is brilliant. After all, everything is brilliant about a wizard who can manage to speak with an entire plateful of mashed potatoes stuffed into his enormous mouth, or who can manage to concentrate so solely upon his food, that he can even block out someone standing right next to him, shouting his own name directly into his ear! Everything is brilliant about a mind that can lock onto a pretty woman walking past Honeydukes from the outside of The Three Broomsticks, the moment she steps out into the open!

So, you see, Ron Weasley truly does have a brilliant mind, just one that he fails to use for such mundane, cliché activities, such as acing tests or saving the wizarding world. In fact, most of the time he fails to use it at all. That is not to say it cannot be used. Ronald Weasley's mind is often put to most proficient work, such as pick-up lines, new nicknames for Draco Malfoy, or even the simple task of denial.

Indeed, such denial is when Ron's mind produces its most brilliant work. Ron could be best man at Hermione's wedding ceremony as she is married off to Blaise Zabini, and still tell himself that she only has eyes for him, and just has yet to admit it. He could see Draco helping elderly muggle women cross the road, and still deny that he is anything but a no-good son of a death eater. Hell, Draco could kill You-Know-Who himself and Ron would still maintain that belief! Ron could deny anything. Just like I said. Brilliant.

Right now, though, that brilliant mind was otherwise occupied in the vast spaces of his thoughts, naively unaware that some of its greatest work would be produced in the next 10 minutes or so.

Ignoring the odd instinct that his every move, thought, or feeling was being documented and written in a story-like form for thousands across the world to read at their leisure, Ron stepped out of the Great Hall, yawning widely, stretching his arms as he did so. He was content. He grinned happily. There was really no better way to describe it. He felt blissfully content. Today he had managed to achieve nothing more than a light snooze during History of Magic, and a nice afternoon lying in the warm summer sun by the Lake. Not to mention, he had just come from a delicious meal, one that even Hermione, on her latest House Elf strike, couldn't deny. Despite the tiny annoyance that Harry had not bothered to show up for this spectacular meal, which Ron was planning to confront him about right now, the day could not have gone better. It was exactly how Ron liked to spend his days. Some say simple things interest simple minds, but that is not so. Far from being simple, he merely enjoys the more simple pleasures in life.

Determined to discuss the day's events with his best friend, Ron set off towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Despite a few mishaps on the moving staircases, and a shortcut behind a portrait of a rather seductively dressed young maiden, which distracted Ron for a good few minutes as he made small talk with her, he managed to arrive at the Common Room in fairly good time. Failing to recognize that he had left Hermione back in the Great Hall chatting to Luna, Ron headed confidently up the stairs to the boy's dormitories, stopping only to say a few 'Good Night!'s to his friends. He followed the corridor to the room marked '6th Year's'. Ron reached out for the doorknob, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Confronted with the sight in front of him, Ron froze with shock. His eyes went wide. His breath started to come quick and fast. His mind went into overdrive, running through his endless thought patterns, trying desperately to find some explanation of what he was seeing. Because there was no way this could actually be true. He stared at his best mate in anticipation, waiting for the explanation that he would accept no matter what it would be. After all, what possible reason could Harry have to lie to him?

In front of him, Harry had frozen also. His own eyes widened, and he swiveled quickly in his chair to face Ron, hiding the item in his right hand quickly behind his back and plastering a horribly fake smile on his face. "Oh, hey mate!" He laughed nervously, aiming for casual and horribly overshooting it. His expression turned desperate, and he pleaded silently with Ron to simply dismiss what he just saw, something Ron was only too eager to do.

Finally managing to collect himself, Ron bent down and picked his jaw off the floor (something which earned him a rather odd look from Harry), then stiffly walked over to his bed and sat down, before adding his own nervous laughter into the mix, ending with an awkward smile. He busied himself for a few seconds with the clothes on his bed, relaxing visibly as he fought off any doubt in his mind. Finally equipped to deny anything Harry had to offer, he turned again to face his friend, who was simply watching him, his back stiff and eyes pleading. "So," Ron glanced up at Harry expectantly "Why do you have all those . . . pots?" He gestured to the large array of pots and tubes with brightly colored liquids concealed within them. He assumed they were some kind of potion, or at the very least not Harry's. He quickly dismissed the memory of finding similar looking materials the previous summer as he had sifted through his sister's make-up bag. They could not be make-up. After all, this was Harry. What a ridiculous thought. He laughed out loud at this, before quickly shutting up after Harry shot him another odd look.

Harry recovered quickly from this small slip on Ron's part, and then adjusted his smile, which was looking even more awkward now, if possible. Sheepishly, he gestured to the mirror and pots behind him. "Um . . ." He started. "Y'know, I was just trying to find Ginny a Christmas present. Y'know cause we're so in lo-love?" Was that just him, or was there some question in Harry's voice? Ron shrugged it off. Of course not, after all Harry was deeply in love with Ginny, and always would be. "And Hermione suggested make-up," Harry continued, his voice becoming stronger. "Yeah, she did. So . . . I was buying some so I could give them to her. Cause we're in love. And shit."

Ron smiled broadly back at Harry, once again dismissing both the doubt and relief in his mind. Of course! Far from using the make-up himself, Harry was merely getting some for his sister. Ron laughed again, standing up and turning back to his bed. He deliberately missed the relief in Harry's smile (there was no relief, just happiness), before he stood up and cheerfully collected his pajamas from the drawer next to his bed. "That's great, mate!" He replied to Harry. "I'm glad you and Ginny get on so well. Never thought you and my sister would hit it off so well, but I guess things like that just happen when you least expect them." He gave Harry a wink and a wolfish smile, before continuing to babble on. "Don't worry, she's totally into you as well. Can't stop talking about you! Y'know, it's just like the holidays after first year all over again, only this time it's true love." He stared persistently at his bed, ignoring the guilt plain on Harry's face. "Anyway, I'm really tired, I'm gonna hit the sack."

Harry returned the smile, bending over to pick something up off the floor. Ron ignored the tiny movement that could have been Harry covertly slipping something into his pocket (after all, why would Harry hide anything from him?), and started to change into his pajamas. He looked up just as Harry passed him, and froze. "Harry . . . "

"Yeah, mate?"

"You-your eyes look all funny. They've got all this black stuff around them."

For one horrible second, Harry just smirked, and Ron thought he would never hear the jumbled, half-cocked excuse that always came tumbling out Harry's mouth in the end. Finally, Harry turned away from Ron and started to gather his pajamas from his bed. "No they don't." Ron ignored the amusement quite evident in Harry's voice.

"Oh."

"Must have been a trick of the light."

"Yeah." Confidence was instantly restored to Ron's voice. Just a trick of the light. Duh. He hurriedly returned to unbuttoning his school robes. "Right. Trick of the light. Of course!"


End file.
